Russel finally shook off the last remnants of the wolf, casting it off himself like a dog shaking off water. All those primal, instinctual urges to run through the forest and kill anything he came across were the hardest things to get rid of and were stubbornly refusing to be pushed away. In the end, he managed it but a part of him felt a longing to be free again. It was addictive, that state of being. So alluring and so easy. It would be simple to throw away all the burdens his humanity saddled him with and just give in to the wolf.

But he didn’t.

He’d seen firsthand what happened when a werewolf goes down that road. It wasn’t pretty. The carnage they left in their wake still haunted him at night. The worst part was not being able to do a damn thing to stop it. It’s the biggest reason why he never went over to the wolf 100% like he just did. Already, he could feel those cloying tendrils of addiction sinking into his mind, urging him to let go again.

It was Lola, standing there brazenly and defiantly against him, that managed to help him keep his head.

“I love you.”

She had really just said that, right? He knew she did but at the same time, a nagging bit of doubt kept pulsing in the back of his mind. After all, how could anybody love a monster like the one he’d just been.

The massive, twisted body of his werewolf form started to shrink as it returned to his normal, human one. His muzzle shrank back into his face. The rows of sharp fangs were pushed out of his mouth by regular teeth. His fur fell off in thick clumps to the ground. The length and musculature of his arms and legs returned to normal. His claws shrank until they were regular human fingernails again.

The tattered remains of his clothing slipped off his body once he was himself again and he stood in the moonlight, naked with only ghoul blood covering him. Then the relief of still being alive and not having Lola ripped into several gory pieces was swept away by a rising tide of anger. His eyes narrowed harshly and he felt heat rush to his face. He took a few steps toward her, practically spluttering. He was so angry.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he screamed, gesturing wildly with his hands.

For her part, she didn’t say anything or give him any kind of answer. She remained there with no emotion on her face except some tears still glistening in her eyes and her lip quivering slightly from the overwhelming happiness and joy she felt at seeing him back to his old self again.

“You could have been killed a dozen times over, Lola.” He continued his ranting, needing to get the abundance of his own emotions out of him, like purging something toxic from his body. “I told you to run and yet you stayed. I wasn’t telling you to run out of fear that they would kill you. Don’t you understand that? I was afraid I would.”

Lola took in all his anger, and let him continue to rage out. She could tell he needed it badly and besides, with the overabundance of positive emotions welling up from inside her, she could take it. Hell, in certain lights and points of view, she knew she even deserved it. She had done a lot of stupid things in a very short amount of time. In fact, she was actually surprised she was still alive.